


Cloud

by trufflemores_Glee_fic



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 23:31:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores_Glee_fic/pseuds/trufflemores_Glee_fic
Summary: Skiing goes well.  Really.  Kurt's a natural.





	Cloud

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody! After receiving multiple requests to repost my old Glee fics, I have created a second AO3 account to do so. I hope you can forgive me for flooding the Glee pages over the next few days. 
> 
> I also ask for kindness regarding the quality of these fics. Over on my main AO3 account (trufflemores), I have written over 150 Flash fics; end result, my current work is of a higher quality than these older pieces. But I know how beloved old fics can be, and I respect that something I consider sub-par can be someone else's favorite. 
> 
> So I hope you enjoy this fic and any others you choose to read. If you choose to do so, I would also be happy to have you on board 'The Flash' bandwagon as well.
> 
> Kick back, relax, and enjoy. You have been one of the greatest audiences I have ever had.
> 
> Affectionately yours,  
> trufflemores

Skiing was neither Kurt's forte nor his first choice for "equality time with our friends, Kurt," but he still found himself sitting in the front seat of his dad's truck gloomily wondering how much time they would have to spend on the slope before one of them lost a limb.

He'd been listening to Blaine's assurances all morning, having stupidly allowed Blaine to take the call from Sam while Kurt had hopped into the shower to freshen up.  By the time he had emerged, draped in clouds of steam, he had barely stepped over the threshold before his bright-eyed husband was stuffing a pile of snow-resistant clothing at him and insisting, "Going skiing, you know how to put those on?" before slipping past him and snapping the bathroom door shut before Kurt could answer, shower already running again.

Kurt had made a soft noise in indignation before he had carried the pile back to his room and set it down carefully on the bed, folding his arms and glaring at the pile for a long moment before turning back to argue with Blaine through the bathroom door.

Too late.  Blaine had already shut off the tap and threw open the door at Kurt's first knock, beaming as he had scrubbed his hair down with a towel and informed lightly, "I know that it's an hour long drive, but you still might want to bundle up a bit, babe; it's cold out."

"Skiing."

It was unfair, trying to compete with those puppy eyes, that gorgeous fresh-out-of-a-shower smell, and a frankly mouth-watering amount of skin to stare at.  Entirely unfair.

So here he was, having changed into a more sport-friendly outfit, staring out the window as Blaine drove, sulkily wondering if he would look as silly on skis as he had on ice skates back home.  Blaine had tried to introduce him to a variety of new sports in the hopes that one would spark a natural athleticism, but where Blaine was balanced and light and comfortable on his feet and steady with his hands, Kurt was clumsy, earning more bruises than points on half the outings (including, memorably, racquetball, a particularly ungodly sport where Blaine had handed him a racket and a tennis ball and earned a spectacular black eye for his troubles).  He had no hopes that skiing would go any better than any of these previous expeditions, in spite of Blaine's assurances to the contrary.

"It's easy."

"Blaine."

"You don't even have to do anything, really; just bend and glide."

"Bend and glide," seemed like a sound comfort from the front seat of a warm truck driving along a snow-dusted road.  As soon as they pulled up to the resort and beheld the looming mountains overhead, however, Kurt's conviction vanished.

"It'll be fun," Blaine promised, unfazed in the slightest at the sight; if anything, he looked more eager than ever, barely throwing the car into park before hopping outside.

Kurt joined him more slowly, dragging out the seconds between him and certain doom as they approached the lodge, arm in arm.  Before long, however, they met up with Sam and Mercedes in the main lobby, exchanging hugs and hellos with equal delight.  In spite of his skepticism about the slopes, Kurt couldn't help warm up to the company, asking Mercedes about her second tour while Sam and Blaine negotiated with the front desk.  Too soon, an instructor had emerged to give them a rudimentary skiing lesson, and Kurt followed grimly in Blaine's tracks, sticking to Mercedes' side as the boys set the lead.

Kurt's grim expression never wavered as he listened to the instructor explain the basics of skiing.  Straightforward though it seemed, Kurt wasn't ready to accept that it would be that easy.  The fact that stopping required teaching didn't bode well, nor did the extra layers that they all donned before officially hitting the slopes.

It was, to his surprise, more fun than he expected.  And considerably more challenging -- Blaine's basic summation didn't cover the coordination required to keep both skis forward and moving in sync.  Kurt slid and flailed around for the better part of fifteen minutes before he was able to maintain a glide without almost falling.  Humble though his success was, he couldn't help but contain his surprise and delight at the realization that maybe, perhaps, there was something that he could do without falling on his ass or smacking himself in the face.

And then Sam, in a moment of unconcern, zipped past him, and his skis angled just so that he twisted and fell with an oof, landing in the fresh powder and sending up clouds of snow while Sam apologized over his shoulder and Mercedes called after him.  "Sam Evans, I swear to God--"

"Sorry, 'Cedes -- all right, Kurt?"

"Fine," Kurt huffed, trying and failing to lift himself out of his fall; his skis had crossed and, despite his spirited attempts to free himself, he seemed to only be making it worse.  "I think I'm stuck," he concluded at last, somewhat lamely, before he felt a pair of strong hands underneath his arms heaving him carefully upright.

"Untangle your skis," Blaine huffed, and Kurt carefully obliged, setting himself upright as Blaine let him go with a heavy sigh. "Having fun yet?" he asked, dusting Kurt off with a smile.

"So much," Kurt drawled, accepting a kiss with a smile.  "Aren't we supposed to be sliding down the hills?"

"We will," Blaine agreed, gliding beside him for a few moments while Kurt struggled to keep his skis in motion, loathe to tangle them again, "but it's good to warm up on flat terrain."

To Kurt's increasing delight -- and false confidence -- skiing on level ground wasn't as difficult as he had feared it would be.  Once he got a rhythm going, he could even keep pace with Blaine, even though Sam outstripped them all in powerful surges, whooping as he crested a small hill before rocketing down the little slopes. 

They spent almost an hour practicing on relatively flat terrain before boarding a lift and heading up to the first small slope, a novice area that even the least experienced skier could handle.

Feeling his stomach drop at the sight of the slope beneath them, Kurt latched onto Blaine's gloved hand and didn't let it go for the remainder of the lift ride.  He didn't, indeed, feel particularly inclined to release it once they reached the top, swallowing at the expanse before them, dozens of skiers milling around.

"It's not that steep," Blaine said, sensing his trepidation and gently tugging him forward.  "It's just a baby slope, really."

"Doesn't look like one," Kurt said, resisting the urge to sit and refuse to move any closer to the edge.  He dragged his feet forward and watched as Mercedes laughed at Sam when he turned too quickly, tangled his skis, and went down hard.

"Hang on," Blaine called, laughing, as he slid over to the pair, helping Mercedes tug Sam back into place.  "You okay?"

"Awesome.  How steep is it?"

"See for yourself."

Needing no further invitation, Sam glided forward and plunged down the little slope at a speed that made even its gentle and even incline seem breakneck, whooping the entire way.  Kurt's heart sank a little further at the thought of following him, a full body shudder coursing over him as Mercedes glided up and after her husband.

"Oh, no," he said emphatically when he felt Blaine's hands around his waist from behind, gently pushing him forward.  "No, no, no, no."

"It'll be fun.  One try," he wheedled.  "Then you can give up skiing forever."

"Just like one hit was enough to give up racquetball forever?" Kurt retorted in a thin voice.  He could see over the edge properly now and it wasn't steep, hardly steep at all, but oh, it was long, and he had so far to go, the mere thought of descending threatened to make him turn hysterical.

"One try," Blaine entreated.

Kurt drew in a slow breath through his mouth, staring down at the slope even as Blaine released him and skied up beside him.

There was a moment when Kurt considered turning around, but then, through scarcely his own volition, he pushed his feet forward and slowly, slowly tipped over the edge.

To say that the experience was memorable would be an understatement.  Kurt zipped down the entire slope in only half the time that Sam had taken, largely due to the fact that he veered off course almost at once and crashed spectacularly into a snowbank, sending powdery clouds of snow into the air.

"Not a natural skier," he huffed through chattering teeth as Blaine dusted snow from him moments later, looking worried and apologetic even as Kurt unexpectedly burst into laughter, because he had survived, because even being covered in snow wasn't as disagreeable as it might have been had he not been half-frozen to begin with, and because of all the things in the world that he had planned to do on his return visit to Lima, skiing had not even made the list.

Abruptly decided that he wasn't going to go home after one humble fall, he insisted on trying it again, to Blaine's obvious surprise.  It wasn't until he reached the top of the slope a second time that he realized how irrational his initial terror had been.  The plunge still brought the same surge of adrenaline, but with his skis forward and his course steady, it tapered off to cautious enjoyment.  And, Kurt had to admit, watching Blaine follow was fun; he was, of course, a natural on the skiers, gliding effortlessly into place at his side.

They fumbled and fell and flushed wildlife out of trees when they crashed into them, but they also made it down three different slopes half a dozen times each.

All in all, Kurt had to admit, flushed with ease and a touch of pride at his success, skiing wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Please let me know if there are any weird coding errors in the fic! I did my best to weed them out before publication, but some will inevitably slip through the cracks.


End file.
